Today
by Fanfic Lover 4evr
Summary: Ignoring his injuries after a disastrous mission, Jim places himself in quite a pickle.
1. Ignoring the Obvious

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Star Trek... I merely love playing with them when I get the chance. ^_^

A/N: The idea got stuck in my head and so I decided to write it down. But be aware that as much as I've tried to stay true to Star Trek, I am human and have probably made some mistakes here and there. This is my first Star Trek story, so be gentle, I'm still testing the waters and getting better aquainted with everything :) Haha, not to mention I've been reading through this section and have decided that there aren't nearly enough Limp!Jim stories... so I thought I'd lend a hand, lol

Enjoy:

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Chapter One:

Ignoring the Obvious

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Today… today was hard.

He didn't even remember the last time he'd been shaken so deeply or harshly to his core. Today was definitely one that could be placed under 'close calls', and one that had threatened to nearly destroy the fragile fabrics that held him together.

"Captain," the familiarly calm voice of his first in command brought his attention to the Vulcan standing next to him.

Captain James T. Kirk regarded him with a nod of acknowledgement. The Vulcan, much like himself and many of the crew were covered in dirt and grime along with spatters of blood, several different colors and types of it in fact.

"You are injured," Spock informed him in a 'matter-of-factly' tone.

Jim looked down at his dirty uniform and took in the sight of the several cuts and blood that shown out starkly against his yellow shirt. "Scratches," Jim explained with a half-ass lopsided smile. "As for you," he paused, "it looks like you've been pretty banged up."

"Captain," Spock began with a serious expression. "Dr. McCoy will be expecting you for the routine checkup. Many of the crew have been injured."

"My injuries are minor Spock I can wait until everything has calmed down," Jim spoke gruffly. He glanced at Spock again and frowned at the green liquid that soaked his tunic sleeve. "You, on the other hand are going to need stitches," he pointed to Spock's arm.

Spock ignored his own injuries and studied the Captain carefully. There was caked on blood and a nasty looking bruise that covered most of his left temple along with many other scrapes and cuts that littered his frame from his encounter with a falling building earlier. More than that he could sense the many emotions that rolled off of the shaken captain, the ability to feel the raw human emotion was one that not even he could control.

Spock continued. "You have a head injury. It does not look severe, but it is not logical to overlook such a thing, head injuries can be quite dangerous if left unattended."

"So you're suddenly a doctor now?" Jim snorted and shook his head at his friend. "I can wait Spock."

"You believe you are to blame for what has transpired." A warning look was sent Spock's way, but the Vulcan was not bothered in the least by it. "How very illogical," Spock decided out loud.

"You don't understand," Jim growled, glancing around the bridge to make sure he hadn't disturbed any of the fleet trying to do their jobs. "We failed those people," he whispered, sure that Spock wouldn't commit mutiny against him and dub him 'emotionally compromised' like he'd done so eloquently to the Vulcan not too long ago.

Spock's face remained impassive as usual, but Jim could see something dark swirling in his eyes. "We took all necessary steps to save them Jim. The Delgada planet wished to keep their political troubles a secret until it was too late to bring peace and order back to their people. Why do you believe you are guilty for their own errors?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"It is illogical that you feel guilty because you could not reach the child…"

"Sir," the heavily accented voice disrupted the intense conversation between the captain and his first officer.

Both men turned their head to regard Chekov. "Yes Chekov," Jim spat out in an irritated tone.

"Dr. McCoy requests your presence to the Sickbay sir's. He say's you've been avoiding the area for long enough and he'd like to get it over with so that he can 'drop dead'."

Spock turned back to the captain expectantly. "Captain."

Jim sighed and looked around the bridge again, noting that most of his officers were back in their correct spots in addiction to gauze, band aids, and stitches, that were splattered here and there on his crew. It appeared that McCoy had had a busy evening. "Go ahead Spock, I'll be there later."

"Captain, I must insist that you accompany me down to the Sickbay. You are injured." Spock stated once more.

Jim clenched his jaw and replied, "Go without me Commander, that's an order."

The Vulcan tilted his head, decidedly displeased with his Captain's antics but remained expressionless. "Yes Captain," and excused himself from the bridge.

Jim felt like shit, that much was simple. His head pounded, his body ached, and the numerous cuts that scattered his body stung, but it was still nothing compared to the images that assaulted him every time he closed his eyes.

The screaming was still so fresh, as were the images of ruins… what used to be the main city on Delgada, and the many bodies that were strewn about. Buildings were on fire and crumbling and there was so much crying and screaming and pain.

For the first time in his life, Jim honestly wished his emotions could be turned off as easily as Spock could. He'd all but lost his control when he witnessed the chaos and destruction that surrounded him and the group of his crew that had come to the surface of Delgada to assist after their distress call. His instructions had been hastily passed out and they all were off to tangle in the web of disorder to assist in any way they could.

Even after so many attempts, they'd only been able to save a handful of lives. The rest perished one way or another… either fighting against the mutiny that came over the Delgada's Consulate, or being trapped in the crossfire between the two.

Days like these had Jim hating being Captain of the Enterprise.

Suddenly Jim needed to get away from it all, it was suffocating him.

"Sulu," he called, hiding the breathlessness he was experiencing.

"Yes Captain?"

"Do you think you can handle her while I go get cleaned up?"

"Affirmative Captain."

Chekov swiveled in his seat to regard Jim. "Should I inform Dr. McCoy that you are on your way, Captain?"

Jim had to think quickly, there was no way in hell he was going down to the Sickbay to face both Spock and McCoy. "Nah, I think I'll surprise him," Jim lied with a wink. The lie was suitable and easy enough for him to get away with should anyone come looking for him.

Chekov nodded his head and turned back to whatever it was he had been doing, allowing Jim to turn on his heal and quickly exit the bridge. He kept his head down as he walked throughout the ship in search of his room; it took him nearly twenty minutes to do so.

Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought.

The door slid open and he urgently stepped inside, dropping to his knees the moment the door had safely slammed shut. He rested his forehead against the carpet and breathed harshly, his minds eye showing him an image of the little boy he had fought so hard to save, but in the end, was too slow.

"_Help me!" the little voice screamed from inside the damaged building._

Nausea rolled through Jim like a freight train, and something between a sob and a pain moaned broke from his cracked lips.

"_It is unwise Captain…"_

_Jim ran toward the voice, ignoring Spock's warning. "I'm coming kid, hold on." _

_The building the voice was coming from was making horrible noises as it shifted and threatened to tumble down on the child trapped inside. It cracked and groaned, seemingly swaying as the Captain ran towards it. _

"_Help!" the terrified voice screeched. _

_Jim had almost been there when with wide eyes he witnessed the huge stone building let out a horrendous crunch as it came down. _

"_No!" _

_He was still moving, and it never even occurred to him that he was close enough to be in the falling building's path... _

_WHAM!_

_The next thing Jim remembered was lying flat on his back, Spock leaning over him with a raised eyebrow. He jerked into a sitting position and searched around the city at the ruins. "The child," he slurred. The blank look on Spock's face told him everything he needed to know. _

"_The building was unstable."_

_Jim carefully, and with the help of Spock was able to get to his feet._

"_You are in need of medical assistance Captain."_

"_No, I'm fine. Just a little knock to the head, not like I haven't had one of those before," he replied, looking around, trying to quell the sickness that wanted to prevail at the thought of the little boy. "The others need help."_

_Spock had nodded, but Jim sensed the Vulcan's eyes watching him very carefully throughout the rest of the rescue. _

He couldn't hold back the overwhelming need to vomit and somehow managed to climb to his feet and stumble into the bathing room, falling to his knees once more and losing what little food he had in his stomach.

Sharp inhales and exhales were all that could be heard in the small room as Jim fought so desperately to get himself under control. The pounding behind his eyes was slowly becoming unbearable, and he felt so dirty both inside and out.

It was the sudden and very strong urge to become clean that had Jim grasping his clothing, ripping it off as fast as his uncoordinated limbs would allow. Everything became a blur shortly after that, but Jim soon found himself unclothed and sitting in the small porcelain bathtub that was rapidly filling with water.

A deep, drawn out sigh left his lips. _What's wrong with me_, he wondered. He was captain of the Enterprise… so why couldn't he just let go and do his damned job? Why was it all affecting him so strongly?

"Dammit," he cursed.

The water comforted him, his hands threading through it like sand. Head leaning back against the side of the tub, Jim glared up at the dull ceiling. His thoughts remained jumbled except for scarce moments of lucidity that had him wondering what was going on.

The physical pain he was feeling was strong and undoubtedly aiding his mental pain as well. It was almost if they were both playing a symphony in sync and in his honor none the less. But it wasn't the pain that had gotten him in the end… it was the strange buzzing that Jim could barely detect in his ears.

Jim never really saw it coming, his mind fractured as his body stiffened and began trembling and quaking uncontrollably in the bathtub. His eyes rolled back into his head as his fit continued, and guttural noises erupted from his mouth. As the fit continued Jim's head and shoulders became fully submersed in the bathtub water.

Unconsciousness fled him swiftly and he was left dangling precariously between life and death.

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TBC... send a comment my way and tell me what you thought. Ideas and helpful criticism are always welcome ^_^


	2. Oh Captain, My Captain

Disclaimer: ... I still don't own Star Trek... but a girl can dream.

A/N: Okay, so I'm going to make you learn a couple things before you continue on with this chapter... mostly because I'm going to be referencing a few medical terms you might not be familiar with. CPR= Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. Cardiostimulator= used to restart a stopped heart. Dermal Regenerator: a medical tool used to heal minor skin wounds, such as cuts and burns. Haha, I'm sorry for torturing you with learning that stuff, but you'll know why soon enough. But also be aware that I am not a doctor, nor a medical student so if you see errors in here I appologize, I am trying to stay as close to reality as I can.

To the reviewers: you guys are awesome, you know that? I am overwhelmed by the awesome response I've gotten with this story, and I appreciate the lovely reviews, support, and interest in this story. You help liven my muse ^_^

Enjoy :D

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Chapter Two:

Oh Captain, My Captain

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Dr. Leonard McCoy had had one hell of a day. He was grumpy, tired, and had several handfuls worth of injured people on his hands. His patience was hanging on by a very thin thread, so it wasn't any wonder why his nurses and physicians wisely chose to keep their mouths closed tightly and went very carefully about doing their jobs.

It was policy that every crew member of the vessel was to check in and get a physical after every mission, no matter the severity of the injury or lack thereof. He'd managed to weed through the worst of those affected and was almost through with the precautionary checkups of the rest of the crew.

The Dr. of course was not surprised to see on his chart that he was missing two outspoken individuals. He expected nothing else. He'd also had nurse Chapman call up to the bridge to have the two stubborn fools sent down so he could get Jim's bitching out of the way before he laid down for a very long nap before having to check up on the higher priority individuals that sustained injuries on Delgada.

"Sir," the feminine voice sounded from behind the doctor.

McCoy turned to see Commander Spock walking through the Sickbay doors, arms behind his back as usual. The doctor then noticed he was missing quite a large appendage.

"You're missing something," he growled in the nicest way possible.

Spock's eyebrow rose and he tipped his head in agreement. "The Captain insisted on staying on the bridge for the time being, Doctor."

McCoy snorted in annoyance. "What good are you? I've seen you fight him before, you could have dragged the bloody moron down here."

"Whereas I might have been able to bring the Captain against his will, I do not believe it would have affected his state of mind positively during the current circumstances," Spock explained.

The good doctor shook his head and lead Spock over to a free cot that had been set up after the overload of patients. "Let's take a look." He went through his mental checklist, Spock appearing to be remarkably unscathed besides the nasty cut that started at his elbow and stretched down to his wrist. "You are going to need the dermal regenerator."

Spock nodded and watched as one of McCoy's nurses came over with a tray. Antiseptic, and the dermal regenerator sat menacingly on top. The Commander had been through this process before, this time would undoubtedly add to the list of injuries he collected in the time Jim had taken the title ranking captain of the Enterprise.

"How'd he look?" McCoy asked as he began cleaning the wound with antiseptic. He knew the liquid would sting, eyeing the dirt that littered the wound. If the Vulcan was in pain, he certainly didn't let it on with those blank eyes.

"Unwell," Spock stated with one word.

"Care to elaborate Commander?" McCoy was far beyond being in the mood for guessing games. He got enough of that crap from Jim on good days; he sure as hell didn't need to do it now with Spock.

"Of course Dr. McCoy," Spock conceded almost sounding as if he was talking to a child. "He sustained a head injury on Delgada where he lost consciousness for a time."

"What?" McCoy shouted, accidentally pressing the dermal regenerator too harshly against the Vulcan's skin. That time he was able to see the lines of pain form around Spock's eyes, before disappearing as if he'd never felt it. "And you still didn't drag his ass down here? Good God man, what is wrong with you?"

Spock let out a soundless sigh. "The Captain has been greatly affected by what has transpired today. Delgada's main city was in ruins by the time we arrived, the Captain tried saving a young child that was trapped in an unstable building. The building came down before we were able to get to him, and Jim was hit by falling debris."

McCoy looked as if he was trying to imitate a fish out of water.

"He temporarily lost consciousness, but I was able to revive him quickly. He managed to sustain more lacerations throughout the rescue, and as you have undoubtedly witnessed, so has a great portion of the crew."

The thought had just suddenly occurred to the doctor. "He feels guilty."

"That is correct." Spock spared a look around the overflowing sickbay, noting the disarray that overwhelmed the room. "He is quite passionate about saving lives, even when the situation does not permit such an action."

"It sounds like you're getting to know him," McCoy realized aloud, slight amusement coloring his tone.

It dawned on Spock that the doctor's assessment was indeed correct. "It appears that I am."

McCoy let out a large sigh and his eyes trailed over to the sickbay doors. "I hope you know you're helping me haul his ass down here when I'm done stitching this," he informed Spock with a gesturing hand.

"I believe that course of action will be the only one to attain the Captain's cooperation in this situation," Spock agreed.

McCoy nodded and then set about completing his work, the dermal regenerator doing its job of healing the Vulcan's arm.

When he finished, he studied his work, clucking in approval. "There, all finished."

Spock studied his arm, the wound was completely healed and he appeared to approve of the doctor's handy work.

"I believe our presence on the bridge is long overdue Mr. Spock."

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow to the doctor's obvious attempt of being witty. "I believe it is."

McCoy put one of his other attending physicians in charge and walked out the door with Spock, intent on finding and wrangling the ailing Captain of the Enterprise.

They began their course, side by side, both silent and stoic as they made their way closer to the bridge.

"Has his nature always been as it is now?" Spock asked, curious to become better acquainted with 'Kirk' logic.

McCoy snorted and grinned, adding a yawn for effect. "At least since I've known 'im. But from what I've learned from his poor mother is that he's been a giant pain in the ass forever."

"I see."

"Yeah, he's got this huge hero complex that leads him to do these stupid things and me of course who never does anything wrong, gets dragged into the mess with him… I tell you it's a damn good thing that I have an incredible gift or we would have been thrown out of Starfleet ages ago!"

McCoy would later swear he saw the faintest hint of amusement glittering in the Commander's eyes at his outburst over the Captain's behavior. "He's a bleeding heart you see," he continued.

"I believe I've witnessed that behavior in him on occasion myself, Doctor." Spock had, the very first time they'd met even. The Captain, he realized, was quite the capable leader that took on the problems of his crew and the rest of space willingly. The downfall was of course the improbability of successfully doing so, and it was obviously harming Jim.

McCoy scoffed, "Lucky for me you're the poor bastard stuck as his first in command so that I don't have to put up with his shenanigans so often. Haha, you seem to be the brunt of that lovely burden now." The doctor gave Spock a big slap on the back and grinned at him like a cheshire cat.

Spock wasn't sure if he should be pleased or worried at this new information.

The rest of their journey had elapsed into a companionable silence.

Soon the two arrived at the bridge doors, which swung open at their identification codes.

Both Spock and McCoy carefully searched the bridge with their eyes, and confused ones met them.

"Sir's," the heavily accented voice greeted in surprise.

"Officer Chekov, where is the Captain?" Spock studied the young Russian, seeing the confusion flicker across his face.

"But Commander Spock, the Captain said he was heading down to the sickbay just a few minutes ago," the young man supplied, sometimes stuttering over some of the words.

It was then that Sulu joined the conversation. "He asked me to watch the bridge while he 'cleaned up'."

"There is no logical reason we would not have crossed paths if that was true," Spock concluded, turning on his heal and walking towards the doors. He was beginning to feel the creeping suspicion that something was deeply amiss with the captain. "Officer Chekov, please inform all of the able-bodied crew members that their assistance is needed in tracking down the Captain. I can be contacted via communicator if he is located."

"Now where are you going Commander?" McCoy asked incredulously.

The Vulcan halted his determined gate for a moment to turn around and acknowledge McCoy. "I believe your human term for it is 'intuition'. I believe there is something wrong with the Captain, Doctor."

"You've just barely figured that out?"

The Vulcan turned and continued walking towards the doors. "Perhaps he has retired to his quarters."

Another snort. "He never goes there… so I guess that'd be the next best place to look." McCoy turned his head and glared at Chekov, "You've got a lot to learn kid." Turning, the doctor followed the Vulcan out of the room to aid in the search of the MIA Captain of the Enterprise.

It took a few more minutes to come to the Captains' quarters.

McCoy took the honor of slamming his fist repeatedly into the door. "Jim! Open the door you insufferable ass, I've had quite enough of your games!"

Spock gave the man an appraising look and had the strangest urge to roll his eyes at the man at such deliberate proceedings. "Lieutenant Scott," Spock spoke through his communicator.

"Aye Commander," the Scottish brogue surged through the airwaves.

Spock explained the situation. "The Captains' quarters are locked down, are you able to override the locking sequence?"

"Will do," Scotty confirmed. "Just give me a moment and I'll have 'er open lickety-split."

Patience was a virtue that Spock had acquired through years of discipline on Vulcan as a child, so he was mildly surprised when McCoy huffed and cursed screaming at Scotty to move a little faster. "I believe the Lieutenant is moving as fast as he can Doctor."

The dirty look McCoy sent his way wasn't something unexpected. "It doesn't hurt to light the fire under his ass Commander."

The door abruptly swung open.

"See," McCoy grinned and followed Spock in.

"Lights," Spock called out, the room illuminating. His quick search brought up nothing more than an empty room. His eyes trailed to the bathing room door, what appeared to be water was soaking the carpet. "Captain," Spock called with and uncharacteristically loud tone.

It was an image that Spock knew would never escape his brain no matter how many years were to pass and lessen its sting. His hand was on the door and he prepared himself for what he believed would be quite a gruesome scene to witness.

Jim was on his side in the bathtub, all but his ear and left shoulder submerged in the water. The tub was overflowing onto the floor and it was obvious that Jim was unconscious and unless he'd magically grown gills, he wasn't breathing either.

"Good God," McCoy muttered, clearly horrified of seeing his friend in such a condition.

"Call for a medical team," Spock voiced, stepping forward and thinking quickly as he wrapped his hands around Jim's limp ones. He could hear McCoy yelling into his communicator for medical assistance to Jim's quarters immediately.

Spock swallowed, letting the tiniest fraction of emotion burst through his psyche at having to drag Jim's limp and unresponsive body from the bathtub.

Jim's face was blue, a very disturbing and unhealthy color at that. His arms swung limply as Spock dragged him by the forearms onto the soaking wet floor, and his head lolled around on his shoulders without his neck being properly secured. "He is not breathing."

"You damned fool!" McCoy spat at the unconscious man.

Once he was laying flat McCoy got down on his knees and he began checking over the unconscious and not breathing captain. He then made his hand into a fist and began rubbing his knuckles against his sternum. "You in there Jim?"

The action elicited no reaction from Jim.

"Dammit." He spared a look at Spock and then began shouting orders. "They taught you human CPR in the academy, right?"

"Correct," Spock confirmed.

McCoy nodded, tilting Jim's head back and lifting his chin. He pinched Jim's nose and sucked in a hug breath then pushed it into Jim's own airway, watching as the signs of air inflating his unresponsive lungs. "Start compressions."

Spock skillfully placed the heel of his hand in the middle of Jim's chest and placed his other on top, interlacing his fingers as he did so. He then proceeded to push down on Jim's chest, mentally counting to thirty and pausing long enough for McCoy to breathe into Jim's airway.

"Come on Jim, breathe dammit. You're not going to let this hob-goblin take over your ship are you?"

Spock couldn't help but to raise his eyebrow at that.

The men continued the process for several minutes with no success. McCoy was beginning to tire, but Spock knew he'd be able to take over the full process of CPR if it was needed.

"Where the hell are they? This isn't working, I need the cardiostimulator or we're going to lose him. I need to shock his heart," McCoy explained gravely, breathing heavily from the exertion and stress of trying to save his friend.

It was then that Spock felt Jim's ribs shift beneath his hands; he jerked them back as if he'd been burned. "I believe I have just broken a rib."

"He'll forgive you," McCoy growled. "Now get back to the compressions."

Commander Spock did as he was told, but it didn't last long before he heard hurried footsteps enter Jim's quarters and head back towards the bathroom.

What happened next was all a blur. He was pushed back until he was at the top of Jim's head. He observed as one of the nurses place and ambu-bag over Jim's mouth and began squeezing it, sending the much needed oxygen into Jim's body. He also observed Doctor McCoy placing the small, metal circle on Jim's naked chest, the odd device making a loud beeping noise as it tried to restart Jim's failing heart.

Jim's body arched off the ground and then slumped back to the floor.

McCoy checked his pulse and breathing, deducing that it hadn't been successful. "Go again," he ordered.

This new process was brought about several more times, their hopes slowly diminishing as time went on and Jim's heart had yet to beat.

Then suddenly…

"Wait!" McCoy had his ear placed against Jim's chest. "I've got a pulse. Confirm."

"Confirmed," one of the nurses informed him.

"That's it Jim, come on back."

A gurgling noise erupted from Jim's mouth, water flowed from his mouth and he coughed, face turning from that horrible blue color to a bright red color as his blood began to once again pump through his body.

"Turn him," McCoy ordered, eyeing Spock as he aided one of the nurses in placing Jim on his side.

Dazed blue eyes opened and looked around the room.

"ey Bones… and Spock?" Jim slurred. "My 'ead hurts…" and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Drama queen," McCoy snorted.

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TBC... reviews are love... and encouragement... and of course, are simply awesome to receive... lol


	3. Doctor VS Captain

Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own anything.

A/N: This chapter is going to be rather sensitive, Jim's actions/reactions may seem a bit severe, but considering all he's gone through I thought it all seemed pretty appropriate. It is a belief of mine that under all of that cocky, bullshit, couldn't-give-a-care attitude Jim acts upon is really part of a front. He just kind of seems like a giant teddy bear underneath all of that rough exterior. Haha, you may not agree but that's how I percieve the guy and I quite enjoy plunging into the deeper, more fragile part of his psyche. Oh, and I fixed some 'futuristic' stuff that was apparently missing in the last chapter. I've been doing more homework on all of the official stuff that makes up the future and therefore Star Trek :)

To the reviewers: ^_^ you guys make me go 'squee!' I am so pleased that I've been able to create an enjoyable story for you all to read! I am honored that you like it! You are all so awesome *passes out cookies*

Enjoy :D

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Chapter Three:

Doctor VS Captain

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It was bright, way too bright.

He had to slam his eyes the instant the bright fluorescent glow reached his fragile eyes. His eyes watered and he moaned when his nerve endings awoke and he became more aware of his bodies aches and pains.

"Captain, are you awake?" a familiarly feminine voice spoke to him.

Jim cracked a watery eye open to view the woman standing over him. Nurse Layla was grinning at him, brown wisps of hair framing her face. If he had been able to speak without wanting to die, he might have flirted with her.

Maybe another time, he would undoubtedly see her again. The sickbay was becoming quite a regular spot for him to end up ever since he had taken the position of Captain on the Enterprise. It wasn't necessarily his fault people found it entertaining to beat the crap out of him.

… but wait. That meant he was in the sickbay. It was then that he realized he didn't even know why he was there at all.

All he could do was moan, and try to roll over on his side only to be stopped by a strong arm.

"Captain, you should try and remain flat until Doctor McCoy can assess your current situation."

"Spock?" Jim slurred.

"Affirmative," his first officer answered.

Jim could hear Spock conversing with Nurse Layla, talking about him and appraising his physical condition. "Why am I here?" he asked, confusion causing his anxiety to rise and the biobed he was laying on started to make a beeping noise when his heart patterns sped up.

"Calm down Jim," the nurse instructed, moving over and placing an arm on Jim's in an effort to calm him.

"Don't touch me," he growled. His eyes sought out Spock; locking on his target he realized the Vulcan was studying him. "What happened to me?" He saw a flash of something in Spock's eyes before it disappeared like it had never been there.

"You drowned," Spock answered softly, his voice sounding different somehow.

Jim grimaced and sat up, then attempted to stand. His legs were as weak as a newborn baby colt, and they quickly crumpled under his own weight. He was surprised when a strong arm wrapped around his torso to keep him upright. He hissed and tried to ignore the dull ache that suddenly got sharper when he moved.

For a moment he just stood there wracking his brain for anything that might give him a clue as to what Spock was talking about. His mind remained blissfully blank.

"It would be prudent for you to sit down Jim; your legs appear to be relatively weak," Spock said, helping Jim get back up on the biobed.

There was a sudden hiss from the doors that alerted them that McCoy had arrived. Followed by the characteristic snarky introduction, "Is it even possible for you to keep yourself out of trouble for five minutes, Jim?"

Jim's shoulders dipped up and down as he watched McCoy march towards his bed. _Oh great, I get to play with bitchy McCoy today._ "Then how would I be able to keep you and your medical staff on their toes Bones?"

McCoy proceeded to mumble some dirty things beneath his breath as he came to Jim's bedside, ushered him back down so he was lying flat and then began his physical. "Do you have a death wish?"

The Captain swallowed gruffly and frowned slightly. "I don't think it's fair to accuse me of anything yet when I don't know why I'm even here Bones."

McCoy frowned.

"He's not aware of the events that have transpired Doctor," Spock supplied as he watched the doctor go about poking and prodding Jim all the while asking him questions about his newly acquired injuries. "Would it not be more beneficial and more efficient for you to use a tricorder Doctor?"

McCoy's eyes narrowed dangerously as he regarded Spock. "Take a good look at your arm Spock; the one that was injured on Delgada," he watched as Spock raised an eyebrow but looked down at his newly uninjured arm anyway.

"What is the meaning of this?" Spock asked, now genuinely curious towards McCoy's position on the matter.

McCoy sighed while rolling his eyes. "What would have happened if I didn't use the dermal regenerator on your arm?"

"Doctor, you did use the dermal regenerator on my arm."

"Just _pretend_ that I didn't," McCoy growled, ignoring the knowing smirk that Jim now wore on his face. "Stop grinning like a cheshire cat Jim."

"That is very illogical…"

"I'm trying to make a point you pointy-eared bastard, the least you could do is go along with it," McCoy breathed, his face turning an exceedingly red color. He turned to Jim and huffed, "Well?"

Jim brought his hands up in a placating manner. "Don't get me into this; I'm just a helpless bystander trying to figure out what the hell is going on."

"Proceed in making your point so you can finish assessing the Captain's condition," Spock urged dully.

McCoy grunted. "If the dermal regenerator had not been functional I would have had to use _old-fashioned _stitches. The simple and archaic tools such as a needle and thread."

"I have yet to find a suitable answer for why you have chosen that particular reference in comparing a flesh wound with a full-body physical, Doctor," Spock replied, his forehead slightly wrinkled and head tilted to the side.

"You're hopeless," McCoy groaned and turned back to Jim and continued in checking him over.

"You see Spock. Bones here is the very spirit of a hometown cowboy," Jim began. "He hates the transporter, everything ultramodern, and space. He's old fashioned, and therefore prefers doing things the hard way."

"Exactly," McCoy breathed, then realized Jim was making fun of him. "You little shit."

The lines around Spock's eyes softened slightly. "I see."

After their little spat had concluded, Spock excused himself to see to the bridge, leaving doctor and patient to have some privacy.

The physical was very extensive and Jim was beginning to think Bones was doing this to torture him for making him the butt of the joke earlier. But that didn't seem to matter as much as the fact that he still had no idea why the hell he had woken in the sickbay with Spock watching over him vigilantly.

"I nearly drowned? Why can't I remember?"

"You hit your head and nearly drowned. It's usual to have forgotten some things. It's actually quite normal," Nurse Layla spoke from the side of McCoy.

"What _do_ you remember Jim?" McCoy asked, shining a penlight in his right eye.

Jim was silent for a moment, searching his memories. "We received a distress call from Delgada," Jim remembered suddenly becoming fidgety and agitated. "Did we get there Bones?"

"Yes," McCoy answered as he decided it was best to leave the specific details of the day out of the conversation. "You were injured on Delgada, Jim. Along with a shitload of scrapes and bruises you also managed to get a lovely concussion. You know Jim; you're as stubborn as a mule and decided to avoid the sickbay. Spock and I came looking for you and found you floating unconscious in your quarters bathing room."

Jim was speechless and felt the apprehension cause the hair on his skin to stand.

"You almost didn't make it," McCoy informed him softly. The doctor went about completing his physical, asking Jim simple questions about what hurt and what he could remember. "Well, it appears that we're dealing with a slight case of amnesia Jim, and considering the severity of your concussion it's not that big of a surprise."

"What happened on Delgada?" Jim wondered aloud, directing his eyes to McCoy.

Bones swallowed and looked towards Nurse Layla who shrugged at him. "You'll have to have Spock fill you in on that Jim; I'm not qualified to catch you up on official Starfleet business."

"Bullshit," Jim spat at him, his expression curling from an emotion he couldn't identify. There was a distinct weight on his chest that instantly made him aware that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Get Spock down here, now."

"Don't be an ass Jim, your body has been through hell and you need to rest," McCoy said sternly.

"Nurse, radio Spock down here. That's an order," Jim ordered, ignoring how McCoy had his jaw clenched in barely contained anger.

The woman looked between both men; her eyes carried a pleading shine in her irises.

"Don't do it," McCoy spoke, not taking his eyes away from Jim's.

Jim couldn't deny his surprise in the apparent fact that Bones had grown a backbone, and it certainly didn't help they both were stubborn SOB's. "I'm Captain, and I order you to get Spock down here now."

He realized then that a headache was blooming just behind his eyes.

"Correction," McCoy stated not sure how Jim was going to take the news he was about to give him. "Spock is acting captain while you're recovering. He placed the full responsibility of your health in my hands. For the moment, I outrank you."

It was Jim's turn to clench his jaw.

"Something bad happened, and you won't tell me."

McCoy sighed and nodded. "Yup."

"Why?"

"It will all still be there waiting after you've rested Jim."

Defeat spread over his features and his shoulders slumped, his head drooping so all he could see were his hands resting on his lap. He felt the hypospray before he heard it as it connected with his skin. He wasn't even able to shoot out a curse against the sharp pain it caused.

"It will help you sleep." McCoy almost sounded regretful, and that was odd because he loved using those things on Jim.

Lethargy suddenly overwhelmed him and his body tilted drunkenly before he was steadied and was pushed down on his back, feet being lifted to also rest against the biobed's surface. A blanket was pulled over him and his vision continued to swim.

"Don't fight it Jim."

Jim couldn't help it. He knew something was wrong, something bad had happened on Delgada; could feel it all the way down in his bones. He tried slurring out one more time for an answer, but it ended up sounding like a groan. It all did him no good.

The darkness descended quickly.

It was in his own dreams… his own memories where he found the answers to his questions. He relived the images over and over as his body slept and his mind turned like the spokes of a wheel.

Delgada

The main city in ruins.

The boy he wasn't able to reach in time.

The bodies that littered the streets like garbage.

The screams of terror and grief.

Jim took the failure upon himself and shuddered at the images that assaulted him.

In his minds eye, he stood at the center of the main city and watched desperately as everything crumbled around him.

He screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

His entrance back to consciousness was definitely unpleasant. He could distantly hear someone screaming a horrible scream that made his toes curl at the noise… until he realized it was him that was screaming.

"Jim! Calm down!" it sounded like Nurse Layla.

His eyes opened and he saw he was still in the sickbay, the lights dimmed for the evening. He was sitting up and could feel his heart beating at an unhealthy speed; he was also drenched in sweat and could hear the strangled gasps for breath that left his mouth. His eyes flew back and forth, his eyes taking in the sights of some of his wounded crewmen lying in the surrounding biobeds.

Jim remembered everything, and the crushing weight of failure was back. He couldn't breathe, he was suffocating.

The nurse was restraining him, calling for assistance.

It was only by some miracle or rather the adrenaline that coursed through his veins that got him standing upright and pushing the nurse hard, causing her to drop to the ground. Many people were staring at him in concern; their looks were overpowering his ability to think straight.

He took off. Exiting out the sickbay as fast as his legs could take him.

Jim ran and ran and ran until he subconsciously found the shuttlecraft hangar. His legs didn't stop moving until he found himself inside one of the shuttlecrafts.

The instant the adrenaline was gone was the instant his legs crumbled beneath him and he dropped to the floor painfully. He huffed and puffed, trying to get air into his lungs. His lungs seemed to constrict and he dazedly identified that he was having a full-blown panic attack.

Over the roaring in his ears and the desperate inhales and exhales of his breathing, he could hear the sound of the Enterprise's alarms booming through the air. But it all didn't seem to matter, he didn't even realize they were booming because he was missing… again.

He was quickly becoming lightheaded and was suddenly glad he was lying down.

Jim couldn't help it when his vision began graying and swiftly went black.

Spock and McCoy were both going to be very angry with him.

* * *

TBC... I wasn't kidding when I said it'd be rather senstive... but what can I say, I love emotionally torturing Jim ^_^ Let me know what you thought! Until next time, adieu!


	4. Of Shuttlecrafts and Treason

Disclaimer: ... really? You're making me do this again? In that case, refer to the last three chapters.

A/N: I appologize that it has taken me so long to send this chapter along, I've been suffering with a bout of writers block, and work has got me grid locked, but hopefully both reasons will dissipate so that I may continue writing what I love. I was nice in this chapter... well not really, but I put in a 'Spock comforting Jim a little bit', scene. Haha... so, I hope you all enjoy! ^_^

To the Reviewers: I am so glad you guys are enjoying the story ^_^ I love limp!Jim, and Angsty!Jim... because I'm evil. Just wanted to let you guys know that you are awesome and make it easier for me to write. :D Thank you all very much!

Enjoy:

* * *

Chapter Four:

Of Shuttlecrafts and Treason

* * *

It was the second time in thirty-six hours that he had every able bodied crew member of the Enterprise searching the ship for their wayward captain. It had come as a most unwelcome surprise when Ensign Chekov had informed him of Jim's escape.

"Doctor," Spock acknowledged in way of greeting.

McCoy was angry, so angry that he didn't even know he should be angry at. Nurse Layla? No, because she was doing her damn job when Jim lost all of his marbles. Jim? No, because the jackass had a concussion and nearly drowned and apparently his sanity was beginning to fray as well. Himself? … probably.

"We need to stop meeting like this Commander."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. The Half-Vulcan turned his attention to the nurse who looked rather shaken, "Nurse."

She looked at him and nodded, "He was having a nightmare, and I tried to restrain him. He looked so terrified- he was breathing heavily too- like he was about to have a panic attack. I was calling for assistance when he pushed me and made a run for it; by the time I was up again he had already disappeared. That's when I contacted Doctor McCoy."

Spock nodded slightly, casting a glance at the Doctor who was biting agitatedly at his fingernails. "Doctor?"

"What do you want me to say Spock?" McCoy lowered his voice and stepped right up to Spock. "I don't have ESP, and I can't tell whether this is caused by his injuries or if he's suffering from post-traumatic stress."

Spock internally sighed, searching his brain for a possible solution. "No one has come into contact with him as of yet," he informed.

McCoy nodded, sighing loudly. Jim was an odd character; it was something he knew for certain. The daft fool believed that he could save everyone, human or alien alike, from all of the evils that threatened to destroy all that was good. His exterior was nothing more than a mask to protect the sensitive heart the pounded beneath it. He'd never met a man so self-less, nor a man so close to the edge.

"What are you going to do once he has been located and returned to sickbay?"

McCoy shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Keep him restrained and possibly sedated until I figure out the extent of his injuries… whether his mind or body is damaged more."

An eyebrow rose in confusion, but realization soon followed. "You do not believe he is mentally stable."

"Commander, I have to determine whether he is going to be able to even take the ship over as Captain again. This could either be mostly linked to his injuries, or it could very well be his mind that is considerably damaged."

McCoy watched, for the first time stunned, as an array of emotions played through Commander Spock's eyes. He remembered that old saying that goes, '_The eyes are the window to the soul_.' It's amazing how much emotion Spock was able to exude from his eyes and not the rest of his body. It appeared that the half-Vulcan was beginning to grow attached to their very unique captain.

"I do not wish to captain this vessel Doctor," Spock admitted, his face showing the slightest bit of disgust for his apparent weakness. "James Kirk is a unique individual that operates in a highly illogical manner, but it is through his unorthodox methods that have helped save lives."

"He may very well be emotionally compromised Commander," McCoy supplied softly, knowing that Jim's rank would be pulled by the academy board the second they heard of his multiple outbursts.

The look in Spock's eyes suddenly became very deadly. "Then the academy would suffer the loss of many good men."

McCoy smiled at that; it was true after all. Jim hasn't been Captain of the Enterprise for very long, but the trials the crewman have gone through as a team in such a short time had undoubtedly turned them into a fiercely loyal family. Many of the people that operated this vessel would happily disband if Jim was no longer going to captain them.

Hell, he'd leave too. Jim was one of the few friends he had managed to make at the academy and he would be damned if he'd lose the pain in the ass little brother his friend had become.

"I suppose we'll just have to deal with it when it comes to it then," McCoy decided, picking up a hypospray and walking towards the sickbay doors. He stopped before he fully exited and turned to the Commander, "Be careful Spock, we don't know what is going on in his head right now. If you find him, radio me and I'll drug his ass."

The young Commander just nodded and followed the Doctor out, splitting up and beginning the search for their Captain.

* * *

It was the sweet oxygen filling his lungs that he noticed first when he slowly swam back into consciousness. When he gained enough nerve and courage, he allowed his eyes to slide open. He took a deep breath through his nose and glanced around the dim lighted shuttlecraft.

"What's wrong with you Jim?" He asked himself in a despairing voice. His mind was still incredibly fuzzy, and he could only vaguely remember pieces of his nightmare, his ensuing escape, and his panic attack.

He managed to push himself into a sitting position, hissing when his injuries made themselves known once more. The painless realm was long forgotten now that his nerve endings had awoken and came to join the part with the entire orchestra playing in his skull.

An exhale, inhale, and then a sigh.

Jim ran a shaky hand through his sweat hair and rolled his stiff neck around on his shoulders, hoping to alleviate the rigid muscles. "I'm a goddamn mess," he muttered, not caring that he was talking to himself excessively since he returned from Delgada.

_Delgada_

Jim managed to force the images from his skull, slamming his eyes shut and pressing his fist into his forehead. He didn't want to see them anymore, didn't want the visuals plaguing his every thought. It all made him so ill. He let out another mournful sigh, eyebrows crinkling at the realization that he could hear the ships claxons booming through the air.

"Fuck," he cursed, not entirely sure, but willing to bet that he was the reason why they were sounding throughout the ship.

Weighing his options, Jim decided it would be best if he waited there for a bit longer.

They were undoubtedly searching for him, but he realized that his current hiding spot might take a while for any crewmember to happen upon.

The tingling of embarrassment welled in his chest as his mind settled on the fact that everyone would know about his 'outburst'. He refused to call it a 'breakdown'. That word was far too… mental, and he certainly was not mental.

Was he?

Hell, he didn't even know anymore. His heart ached right along with his brain now.

Why was this mission so damn hard? He'd witnessed with several hundred people, an entire planet that was home to billions of Vulcan's, dissipate into nothing- as if it had never been there in the first place. So why is it that the memories of Delgada could threaten so strongly to destroy him?

Jim suddenly stilled, his heart picking up speed as he heard someone walk past his shuttlecraft. He held his breath, hearing his heart pound intensely against his ribcage at the thought of him being found already.

He wasn't ready to face them. He wasn't ready to admit defeat. He wasn't ready to admit that he'd been broken.

The footsteps trailed away, and disappeared as they got further away from Jim's hideout.

He let out the giant breath he'd been holding, and slid his knees up to his chest, dropping his head to rest on hi kneecaps.

"Something is wrong with me," he whispered, forehead wrinkling in despair.

The realization had him gasping for breath again; the feeling of suffocation was back. He heaved for air, his chest constricted and he swiftly became light headed again.

_No! _His mind screamed. He couldn't take the weight of these emotions, they were crushing him!

Agony ripped through his veins and rushed through his blood in a torrent wave.

His mouth dropped open, and he began to scream. Screaming louder than he could ever remember doing his entire life, louder than when he thought of his father, louder than when he thought of his mother… louder than he ever thought his vocal cords could take.

Suddenly arms were around him, restraining but gentle. His mind refused to compute all that was going on around him; the pain that raged through his body was too much for the synapses in his brain to make any sense of.

He could do nothing more but scream louder.

Then someone spoke to him.

"Let go," he managed to stutter amidst the haze of pain that was washing over his every nerve.

It was a soft, lone voice that somehow pushed beyond all of the pain and came to rest up front and smoothly in his brain.

"Jim," the voice spoke.

Jim knew that voice… "Spock." A flyaway thought had Jim fighting an imaginary, mental, lopsided grin; of course it would be Spock to find him.

"I am here Jim," the voice pushed into his thoughts and made him wonder why the half-Vulcan's voice sounded so fuzzy and far away, almost as if he was speaking through water.

"Hr'ts," he slurred, beginning to fight the restraining arms that held firmly onto him.

The pain began to suddenly recede slightly, but it was enough for the shuttlecraft to abruptly appear in his clearing line of vision. Jim swallowed hard, gasping as his mind caught up to the present.

Jim cleared his throat and gave in, falling against the chest that rested directly behind his. "Do you have your phaser on you Spock?" He managed to push through clenched teeth.

"What relevance does that question have Jim?" Spock inquired, getting the sense that Jim's response would not be a pleasant or logical one.

"I want you to shoot and kill me with it."

The half-Vulcan unconsciously clenched his jaw, retaining his grip on his agitated friend. "That is not a task I will perform willingly."

Jim took a painful breath and nodded. "Okay, then I _order_ you to shoot and kill me, Commander."

"I am acting Captain while you are unfit to do so. Your order is pointless and will be ignored," Spock informed him with firm resolution in his voice. "I do not understand what this request of such an illogically barbaric act of violence would do to aid you."

"Put me out of my misery," Jim begged pathetically.

One of Spock's eyebrows rose in familiar confusion. He carefully pulled one of his arms from around Jim and clicked his communicator. "Doctor McCoy."

"You find 'im Spock?"

"Affirmative, we are located in the shuttlecraft hangar," Spock relayed. "The Captain is quite unwell; I cannot discern what is causing him such copious amounts pain."

"Speak English," McCoy's loud voice boomed through the airwaves. "How the hell did you find him?"

"During my attempts to locate the Captain I came across the ships shuttlecraft hangar, after an unsuccessful attempt at locating him I was in the midst of departing when I heard screaming," Spock paused when Jim's head tilted forward and his body became limp.

"Spock," McCoy urged.

The half-Vulcan took his hand off of the communicator and placed it over Jim's chest where his heart beat in a steady rhythm. Spock swallowed hard; accidentally letting his mental guard down and allowing Jim's painful, guilt ridden, fracture emotions to well in his own chest. He quickly stuffed them down to the pit of his stomach and turned his attention back to the communicator.

"It appears he is falling unconscious once more, Doctor," Spock educated while still trying to rid himself of the intense emotion Jim had managed to transfer to the half-Vulcan. "I am beginning to suspect that something is amiss about this entire state of affairs."

"Huh?"

"Doctor, would I be correct inferring that Captain Kirk has never acted thusly, even after facing the most paralysis of situations?"

There was a pause. "I suppose…" A sudden intake of air followed. "Please tell me you're not trying to inform me that you think someone is causing Jim's psychological meltdown."

"It is a logical concern," Spock said.

"He hasn't even been Captain for an entire year," McCoy whined.

Spock was quiet for a moment and then almost thoughtfully, "Doctor, you speak as if these circumstances come as a surprise."

A pronounced sigh flittered through the airwaves. "We're almost to you. I'll run a full battery of tests and see where we're at. But do tell me smartass, what are we going to do if you're wrong?"

Spock's forehead momentarily wrinkled in an unpleasant thought.

"I do not know."

* * *

TBC... Dun dun dun, and the plot thickens! Haha, okay... so leave me a comment and until next time, I bid you all adieu! *waves*


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